


Second Chance

by RachelErica



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Chibi, Family Fluff, Gen, Origin Story, Turtle Tots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5607595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachelErica/pseuds/RachelErica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had failed once, but he has been blessed with a second chance. This time he would not fail. He would protect those four little ones with all he had. This is sort of an origins fic and also a series of turtle tot one-shots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Beginning

Hamato Yoshi looked over his new furry form; his pink hands, pink feet, a muzzle that stuck out on his face, and most disturbing to him: a long, pink tail. 

A rat. Why a rat? How? He had thought the idea of mutation on that level to be a fictitious concept. The idea of a human and an animal merging DNA was absurd. 

He looked at the sky; the sun was setting. Thank God for short winter daylight. The night, the shadows, would buy him time to figure out what to do. Surely he couldn't go about his everyday life in the form of a man/rat hybrid. 

“Waaah!” his racing thoughts were disrupted by a distressed baby's wail.

He looked around frantically. A baby in an alley? That could never be a good thing. His first thought was to check the dumpster. 

“Waaah!” The cry rang out again and he found the source before he could even make it to the dumpster. Lying at his feet was a crying human-like turtle. The mutant infant was stuck on his shell. Splinter knelt down and took the little one into his arms. 

He bounced him lightly and hushed him. “It is alright, little one. Do not cry.”

The infant pouted and stared up at the large, warm creature that held him. Fervent brown eyes met curious baby blue ones. 

Splinter stroked the green infant's freckled cheek with his thumb. “Do not be afraid. I will not harm you.”

The baby seemed to settle down, cooing contentedly. 

“There you go,” Splinter smiled. He felt a light tap on his foot. He looked down and saw another baby turtle, but this one was larger than the one that he held. “Well hello there,” he said. He set the infant in his arms down next to him on his stomach and lifted the one at his feet. 

The baby smiled. Splinter noted that his eyes were a darker blue than his presumed younger brother. 

“Aren't you a brave little one?” he cooed and tickled his chin. The little turtle giggled and grabbed onto the amusing hand. He observed it curiously for a moment, and then stuck it in his mouth of only a few teeth.

Splinter chuckled and removed his hand from the toddler's mouth and playfully tapped him on the nose. 

Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation in his spine that he'd never felt before. Was it his spine? It felt to him as sort of an extension of his spine. He turned to look at the source of the said sensation and saw another baby turtle holding the end of his new tail. This one was smaller than the one he held, but only a little bit larger than the tiny freckled one. 

The little one seemed mesmerized by the strange, moving appendage in his hands. He cooed as he stared at it and giggled when it whipped and tapped him on the nose. 

Splinter chuckled. “What is that, little one?” he cooed. He set the turtle in his arms next to the smallest one that still lay on his stomach and scooped up the curious one. 

Big mahogany eyes stared up at the rat curiously, aiding a blank expression. Tiny olive green hands reached up and touched the rat's whiskers. The child's blank expression switched to one of fascination. 

Splinter smiled and removed the little one's hand and held it in his own. He massaged it with his thumb as he observed it: two chubby fingers and a thumb. Strange, yet ever so precious. 

He returned his glance to the little one's face to find him watching him. Then the little one smiled. 

“Waaah!” another cry interrupted the moment. Splinter looked down and saw the cry was coming yet again from the smallest turtle, still lying on his stomach, except this time another larger baby turtle was attempting to crawl on top of him and was biting him on his arm. This turtle was almost the exact same size as the largest turtle with the dark blue eyes, who just sat up curiously watching the action. 

“Oh no, no, no,” Splinter swiftly set the small brown-eyed turtle down next to his bigger brother and scooped up the little troublemaker who was squishing his smallest brother. 

The little one protested, attempting to bite the arms that held him. 

Splinter giggled. “Your brother does not want you to squash or bite him,” he cooed as he cradled the fussy toddler. “There, there, settle down now.” He attempted to stroke his cheek, but the little one glaring with green eyes attempted to bite his hand. He then scooped up the fussing infant that had been squished. “Oh no, little one,” he cooed, “what happened?” 

Seeing his freckle-faced little brother now in the neighboring arm, the green-eyed troublemaker giggled and reached over and attempted to grab his face. 

Splinter firmly grabbed his hand. “No, no,” he said, “do not harm your brother.”

The larger turtle whined and kicked his feet. Splinter ignored his fussing and set him down next to the other two on the ground. The rambunctious tot then proceeded to attack the largest turtle, except this one did not cry, but wrestle back.

Splinter smiled at them and continued to console the smallest of the four. “It is alright, little one.” Once the baby was calmed he returned him to the ground with his brothers. He attempted to sit him up, but he began to fall backwards. Splinter gasped and caught him. He then proceeded to put him on his stomach again. The other three began to crawl in all directions. The littlest one watched them and attempted to pull himself up, but fussed when he found he wasn't strong enough.

“What's the matter?” Splinter cooed. “You can't get up?” He scooped the little one up again and cradled him. “That's okay.” He tickled the little one's chin and finally saw him smile. “There's a smile. Aw, aren't you precious?” He then gathered up the other three into his arms the best he could and sat down behind the dumpster. 

He sighed. What was he to do? He purchased those turtles and now they were children, his children. It was his responsibility to care for them now, but surely a mutant rat and four mutant turtles could not live in everyday society among humans. They would never be accepted, and could even be in danger. He shuddered at the idea of anyone harming those four precious children. No. He would never let that happen. Not again. This time he would succeed as a father.

Where would he raise them though? Certainly not in his apartment. If he could not go back to work, then he could never pay the rent and then surely he and his new sons would be discovered. He had to live somewhere that was safe and free. 

The mahogany-eyed toddler crawled away from his new father in a seemingly aimless direction. He stopped on a manhole cover and stuck his finger in a hole. 

Still holding the smallest to his chest, Splinter got up and pursued the curious little one. “What are you up to?” he asked and knelt down to scoop him up.

Splinter stared at the manhole. The sewers. Probably not the cleanest place to raise them, but the safest? Possibly. How often do humans travel into the sewers? He presumed not often. 

He heard the two oldest by the dumpster whining. “What is the matter?” He moved closer to see them shivering and huddling together. The sun was setting; they were cold. Splinter looked around the alley for something to cover them and discovered his torn clothes. He set down the older turtle in his arm down next to the two oldest and retrieved the torn shirt. He wrapped it around the three of them and then added the smallest into the bundle. He lifted the bundle and held them closely to his chest as he lifted the manhole cover and cautiously climbed into the sewers. 

Once he reached the floor, he set the bundle of turtles down and, before they could crawl away, he climbed back up and shut the manhole. He gathered the fussing and shivering bundle back into his arms and traveled on to find a place to reside. 

Within thirty minutes and three miles of travel, he had found an abandoned subway station. That could work. He walked to the several different areas and envisioned how each could, over time, be made to be more homey. He even found an old room with a working sink and toilet. Perfect. It was like it was abandoned just for them. 

He settled down in the largest room in the center and held the little ones closer to him. Surely there were not nearly enough materials in their new home to help them survive. He would need to return to his apartment to get some necessities. He couldn't imagine leaving his turtles alone though. They could crawl off and get lost or worse. 

His thought process was interrupted by the green-eyed troublemaker's yawning. They were getting tired. Perhaps he could go and retrieve his items after the little ones fell asleep. That could work, but even still he would need to be quick. 

It was only five minutes before all four of the turtles were fast asleep. He kissed each one of them on the head and carefully laid each of them down on their stomachs, making sure to put the smallest on the outside so he wouldn't be smothered, and then covered them with the shirt. 

He watched them for a moment more before silently slipping out of the station and into the sewers. He looked for the first manhole he could find and went back to the surface.

To avoid being seen, he climbed a fire escape and traveled the rooftops to his apartment building. In less than ten minutes, he was there. Knowing he couldn't just walk right into the building, he jumped down to the fire escape and climbed in his window. 

He went to his bedroom closet and retrieved a large camping backpack. He folded up his cot and stuffed it in the bag. Next he grabbed as many blankets as he could and two pillows, folded them up and stuffed them in the pack as well. 

He came across an all-too-familiar box. He sighed and slowly opened it. Inside was a framed photo of his former family, several bottles and sippie cups, a few baby blankets, and one unopened pack of diapers; the only things salvageable from the fire that he found were worth keeping. He stuffed the poignant contents of the box into his backpack.

From his wardrobe, the only clothing he wished to take with him was his dark red kimono. He slipped the kimono on and decided that that would be his entire wardrobe from then on.

His kimono having reminded him of his passion, he proceeded to his 'office' where he found his ninja weapons. Making certain that they too had their own compartment, he stuffed in as many weapons as he could fit.

The next priority was food. He went to his kitchen and gathered all the nonperishable things that he could find: canned soups, canned fruits and vegetables, even canned meat. He stuffed them in their own compartment.

He opened another cabinet to find the things he could never live without: his teapot and teabags, hundreds of teabags. He shoved them in with the rest of the food, and went back to the window to go on his way. 

When he returned to the sewers, he was relieved to find his boys were just how he had left them. He unrolled his cot and set it down on the ground and next to it, he laid down the two pillows. He picked up each turtle and placed them on the makeshift bed. 

He then unpacked the diapers from the bag and put one on each of them. They looked awkward on them because they completely covered the bottom of their shells, but they were imperative. It may have been a sewer, but he could not have them messing on themselves or around their living area. 

After the sleepy little ones were situated in their diapers, Splinter covered them up with two of the blankets, one to a pair. 

“Sleep well, little ones,” he whispered. He knew he was not going to sleep easily so he sat up and watched them a while. He smiled when he realized he had unintentionally laid them in order from largest to smallest. 

The largest had rolled over onto his back, his mouth hanging agape. Splinter smiled; such a brave little one he was for one so small. How the toddler approached him, a large and strong mutant rat, with a smile on his face, though not knowing what was to become of himself. His bravery much like that of a lion. Leo. Leonardo. Yes, that would be a perfect name. 

Splinter reached down and stroked his forehead. “Leonardo.”

The second largest was still on his stomach and had slightly retreated into his shell. Quite the rambunctious little one; how he seemed to love to wrestle and fight. He reminded Splinter of a puppy, or more wild, a wolf puppy. Ralph. Splinter cringed. The name reminded him of an elderly man; definitely not suitable for his rambunctious little one. Raphael? Yes, perfect. 

Splinter stroked his hand. “Raphael.”

The third had rolled to his right a bit more to be closer to the smallest. This one had so far proven to be very curious; always observing. His observant behavior could one day serve him a great deal of knowledge. Perhaps knowledge that could change the world. The world. Donald. Splinter looked at the little one again and tried to fit the name with him. No, that would not do. Donatello? He smiled; yes. 

He lifted the little one and moved him further from his younger brother so that he would not mistakenly squash him. “Donatello.”

Finally, he watched the tiniest of the four. He was the only one that had not moved much from where he was laid down. He still laid on his stomach, snoring very lightly. This one was perhaps too young to show many character traits; couldn't be more than six months old. Even still, the little one seemed very sweet and angelic. Angelo. Splinter contemplated; it sounded okay, but he knew for certain he could do better. Michelangelo? The painter of the Sistine Chapel. 

He looked at his youngest and smiled. “Yes,” he said aloud and adjusted the blanket over the little one. “Michelangelo.” 

He kissed them each again and retired to his cot beside them. “Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo; perfect names for perfect little boys.”


	2. Cold

Splinter was awoken from a light sleep to the sound and feeling of a certain baby turtle stirring in his arms. Without opening his eyes, Splinter lightly patted the little one on his shell to try and subdue his coughing. 

He hushed him. “It is alright, Michelangelo.”

The smallest of the turtles had become ill only a couple of weeks after they had been 'adopted' and they had begun their lives in the sewer. 

Splinter sat up and cradled the little one in his arms. Michelangelo continued to violently cough, shiver, and fuss. 

He felt Mikey's forehead; it was still warm. He sighed. “You are still warm. What am I gonna do with you?” he cooed. 

Splinter rose from his cot and carried his son into their makeshift kitchen and retrieved a bottle from a tote made into a sort of cabinet. Then he heated up the teapot on the stove. 

He returned his attention to his son and adjusted the blanket that he was wrapped in. “I'm sorry, little one. I wish I could make you better.”

Mikey yawned, revealing the very few tiny teeth he had. They shined like a tiny beacon of hope to the troubled father; his baby was still growing, however sick. 

The dozing little one jumped piteously when the teapot whistled. Seeing the little one quickly settling down, Splinter chuckled at him and poured the hot water into the bottle and then dropped a teabag into it. 

“What was that, Michelangelo?” he cooed. Mikey gave a small, sleepy smile and nuzzled into his father's furry chest. Splinter stroked his head, hoping that it might coax him closer to a much needed sleep. 

He removed the teabag from the bottle and disposed of it, and then twisted the top on, being sure to check that the tea was not too hot. He attempted to get it into Mikey's mouth, but he clamped his mouth shut and edged his head away. 

“Come now, Michelangelo,” he said, “you must drink. It will help you feel better.” He pushed it against his mouth until he finally accepted it. “Good boy.” Though tense and resistant at first, the little one settled down and even reached up to hold the bottle himself after a few moments. “Aw, see? I knew you were thirsty.”

Splinter carried Michelangelo back to his room and sat down on his cot. Mikey's eyes were beginning to droop and he was losing grip on his bottle. Splinter grabbed the bottle with one hand and firmly held it so it wouldn't fall on the baby's face when he dozed off. 

Soon enough, Mikey was asleep. Splinter was about to lie down and go to sleep himself, but thought to check on his older three first. He walked across the room and knelt down by the lump of pillows and blankets that cradled the rest of his little family. 

Sure enough, Leonardo, Raphael, and Donatello were all huddled close together sleeping soundly. He readjusted the blankets and silently thanked God that at least his other three were remaining healthy. 

After giving them each an affectionate stroke, he held Mikey to his chest and returned to his cot, trying to get back to sleep. 

\--------

Splinter's eyes slowly creaked open. He turned to look at his clock and it read five o'clock AM. He smiled; Mikey had slept through the rest of the night. 

Apparently, so had his brothers, very well, in fact. Leonardo and Raphael were laughing and wrestling around on the floor, and Donatello was standing by the wall, running his fingers along the stone as if he were fascinated by the textures or something. 

Splinter smiled. He had yet to hear a single coughing fit from Mikey. He smiled down at his youngest and stroked his head. It felt as if his fever had gone down drastically. 

Splinter paused; perhaps it had gone down too much. He rolled his son over in his arms and his heart leaped. The baby's face was deathly pale, his eyes and mouth looked like bruises, and his chest was not moving. 

“Michelangelo?” he lightly nudged the infant with his arm. He did not respond. “Mikey?!” He panicked; the little one still did nothing. “Oh no, no, no!” He frantically laid the little one down on his cot and checked him for a pulse; nothing. He blew into Mikey's mouth and compressed his chest with two fingers. He repeated that action several times and checked for a pulse or a breath, but he still got nothing. 

Michelangelo's respiratory virus had taken his life. 

With tears in his eyes, Splinter finally looked at his older three. They were all three staring at him with a fearful curiosity. He wouldn't tell them. He couldn't. He had failed again. 

Splinter woke up in a sweat. He immediately sat up and checked on Michelangelo. He held his tiny wrist in his fingers and finally exhaled when he felt a slow, but strong pulse. He hugged the baby close to his chest and kissed his head. 

“Thank God,” he whispered. For safe measure, he got up and checked the other three as well; safe and sound. 

As if on cue, Mikey broke into another coughing fit. Splinter held him against his shoulder and patted his shell. 

“Ssh,” he hushed him, “there, there, my son.” He sighed. He knew what needed to be done.

\------

Splinter and his three oldest sons sat in a circle in their kitchen. He was spoon feeding each of them from a bowl of worms and algae. He, himself, could not stomach the idea of eating it, but it maintained the nutrition that his boys needed. As a nice addition, they loved it.

Raphael, quite the impatient little one, would open his mouth and clap his hands together to let his father know that he wanted more now.

Splinter chuckled. “Wait just a moment, Raphael.” He stuck another spoonful into Donnie's mouth. 

Meanwhile, Michelangelo lay on a blanket next to him drinking a bottle filled with a more liquidated version of the algae, being still too little to eat it solid. 

Donatello was watching him and attempted to crawl over to him and take the bottle. Not because he wanted it, he just wanted to investigate.

Splinter picked him up and set him back with the other two. “No, no, Donatello. You cannot take Mikey's food.”

Donnie didn't fuss and accepted another spoonful. Raphael then attempted to climb on Splinter's lap and take the bowl from his hand.

Splinter firmly pushed his hand away. “No, no, Raphael,” he scolded, “you must wait your turn.” He allowed him to settle in his lap and soon enough (after Leo got a bite) little Raphie got another bite too.

Thunk! 

Splinter looked down by his side to see that Mikey had dozed off and dropped his near empty bottle down beside him. He smiled and returned to feeding the older three. 

“That's the last of it, boys,” he said, having scooped up the last of the bowl's contents. “That means it's nap time.” He scooped up all three of them into his arms and tucked them in on their bed made of pillows. 

He sighed. Now to do the thing that he dreaded. He wrapped up Mikey in his blanket, covering all but his nostrils so that he may breathe. He took another blanket and covered his own face; all except his eyes and slipped on a pair of gloves.

Splinter checked on his oldest three one last time and he, Mikey in arms, ventured off into the sewers. 

Once he reached the surface, Splinter made a mental note to keep his tail wrapped around his leg so that it would not drag behind him and startle any humans. 

He sauntered cautiously down the sidewalks, receiving quite a few curious looks from passer-bys. 

Lucky for him, after only a few blocks, he was able to find a pharmacy. He walked as casually as possible inside and gathered several packages of baby and children's cold medicine and vitamins.

Mikey broke into another coughing fit and stirred in his arms. 

He bounced him soothingly and hushed him. He was relieved to find the little one had remained asleep, and continued on his way to the register. 

The man at the counter was very clearly a little put off by Splinter's appearance, but for the sake of his job, he managed a polite smile.

“How are you today...sir?” 

“I am fine,” Splinter replied, “and you?”

The man seemed to be instantly more comfortable and smiled wider. “I am doing great.” He rang up the items and looked at the bundle in Splinter's arms. “Aww, sick baby?”

Splinter sighed. “Yes.”

The man handed him his bag of items and reciept. “Well I hope the poor little guy gets better.”

Splinter bowed slightly. “Thank you, sir.” 

And with that, he left the pharmacy and returned to the sewers.

Splinter checked on his oldest three and was relieved to find that they were still napping. He lie Michelangelo on his own cot and prepared the cold medicine. 

Mikey broke into another violent coughing fit, this one strong enough to awaken him. 

“Hello, little one,” Splinter smiled and tickled the baby's stomach. 

Mikey smiled and tried to laugh, but began to cough again. It was then that he began to cry from the pain.

Splinter stroked his cheek. “Aw, it is alright, my son.” He sighed. “You are not going to like this, but it will help you.” He took the syringe from the medicine and stuck it into the infant's mouth, releasing its contents. 

Mikey cringed, but before he could spit it out, Splinter held his mouth shut tightly, leaving him no choice but to swallow. 

Mikey wailed once Splinter released him. He took him into his arms. 

He smiled at the fussing child. “Aw, that was not so bad. No, not at all. You're gonna get better now.”

Soon enough, Mikey settled down and was asleep again in his father's arms. 

Splinter's attention was shifted to the sound of stirring from the other side of the room; Leonardo was waking up. 

“Well hello, Leonardo,” he greeted. 

Leo looked at his father and smiled. He yawned and crawled over to him and into his lap. 

“Did you have a good nap?” Splinter asked.

The sleepy toddler rubbed his eyes and only smiled, still not quite able to speak. He then began to watch the sleeping Mikey in his father's other arm.   
“Mikey is sick,” Splinter explained. “I gave him some medicine, though, so he is gonna get better very soon.”

Leo cooed and reached out to grab the blanket that bundled his little brother.

Splinter stopped him. “No, no, Leonardo. You cannot take your brother's blanket.”

Leo fussed and kicked his feet. 

Desperate for his ill son to not be disturbed, he hushed Leo and hugged him to his chest with his free arm. “Shoosh, Leonardo. You must be quiet. Your brothers are sleeping.”

“Co-old,” he whined. 

Splinter gasped and looked at the child. “Did you...did you speak, my son? Did you say 'cold'?”

Leo blinked. “Cold...” he whined again.

Splinter's heart leaped. “My goodness, you just said your first word!” He hugged the little one and pecked him on the head. “Are you cold?”

“Cold...” 

Splinter chuckled and set the little one down so he could get up and retrieve one of the blankets from their bed. He returned to the pouting toddler and picked him up and wrapped him up in the blanket. 

“Is that better?”

Leo did not reply, but smiled and nuzzled his father's chest. 

Splinter stroked his head. “I am so proud of you, Leonardo.”

–-------

Splinter fastened a diaper on his youngest and smiled. “There; all clean, Michelangelo.” He scooped him up and felt his forehead. “Your fever has gone down. You're doing so much better.”

The infant smiled and began chewing on his fingers.

“Cold,” Leonardo crawled up to his father and youngest brother, holding a blanket.

Splinter laughed. “You have a blanket, honey. You must use it if you are cold.”

Leo held up the blanket as if to show it to them. “Cold,” he pushed.

“Yes, and the blanket will make you warm.”

Leo did not seem to hear him and crawled into his lap. He draped the blanket over Michelangelo and smiled. “...'key cold.” He pointed at Mikey, “cold.”  
Splinter smiled proudly. “No, Michelangelo is not cold anymore.”


	3. Tasty Motivation

Michelangelo fell flat on his plastron for at least the tenth time in five minutes. Splinter had been trying to get him to crawl, but the poor little turtle hadn't quite mastered it yet.

The infant fussed at his failure.

“It is alright, Michelangelo,” Splinter lifted him up onto his hands and knees again, “you will get it.”

Mikey tried to move one of his knees forward, but again, he lost his balance and went down on his stomach. 

“You almost had it.” Splinter set him up again and Mikey held himself in the position for several seconds before he subtly moved forward, and made it two paces before he collapsed again. 

Splinter made an exaggerated gasp to encourage the little one. “Look at you! You crawled a little bit there.”

Mikey smiled and tried to lift himself back up, but found it too difficult and proceeded to lie on the floor and roll over onto his shell and suck on his fingers contentedly.

Splinter smiled and shook his head. “Very well. You may have your leisure time to suck your fingers and roll around.” He hovered over the little one and tickled his tummy. “I will get you to crawl though!”

Mikey burst into a fit of belly laughs, which grew louder when his father began to blow raspberries on his stomach. 

“Waaah!” 

Splinter's moment of play was interrupted by the sound of one of his older toddlers screaming at the top of his lungs. He scooped up Mikey and ran to the sound of the cry.

He followed the sound to his dojo and found Raphael sitting in the middle of the floor screaming and crying. Carefully, he set Mikey down on the floor and scooped up Raphael, cradling him and bouncing him in consolation.

“There, there, Raphael,” he hushed. “It's okay. It's okay.”

He checked the fussy toddler over for injuries, but could not find a single one. 

“What is the matter, my sweet?” 

Raphael, said nothing, still yet to say his first word, but looked to his father with fear in his big green eyes. 

“Did something frighten you?” 

Raph pouted and stared at the floor. 

Splinter looked to see what had his attention and saw something tiny and brown crawling across the floor; it was a cockroach and a crawling Mikey was slowly on the pursuit of it. 

Splinter gasped. “Michelangelo, you are crawling.”

Mikey's determined face stayed focused on the unsuspecting roach. Once he got close enough, he reached for it, pinching it between his chubby index finger and thumb.

“No!” Raph screamed at him. “No-o-o!”

Splinter set Raph down on the floor and scooped up Mikey in one swift movement, taking his hand to stop him from ingesting the insect. 

“No, no, no, Michelangelo,” he scolded. “You cannot eat the bug.”

Mikey fussed, protesting being denied his rightfully earned snack. 

Splinter could not bring himself to deny his son the thing that motivated him to crawl on his own, so he gave in and allowed the infant to eat the roach. They ate worms and algae regularly anyway, so how bad could it possibly hurt him?

A mortified Raph once again burst into tears. “No!” he cried.

This was when Splinter finally noticed. “Raphael, did you just speak?”

He set the now highly content Mikey on the floor once again and knelt down by Raph. “Did you say 'no'?” he asked. “What is the matter? 'No' to what?”

Raph screamed and pointed at his little brother. “No! No-o-o!”

Splinter cocked his head. “No to Mikey?” He looked at Mikey and saw he was still slowly chewing the roach. “Did the bug scare you?”

Raph responded only by continuing to pout and stare at Mikey.

“It is okay, honey, the bug is gone. Mikey ate it,” Splinter responded, gesturing toward his youngest who had finished his snack and was now lying on his stomach again.

This seemed to upset Raph further. “No-o-o!”

Splinter chuckled and gathered him into his arms and then Mikey as well. 

“It is okay, Raphael. Michelangelo is fine. The bug will not hurt him. He made the bug go away,” Splinter explained. He looked to Michelangelo and tickled his chin. “It was yummy, wasn't it?”

Mikey grabbed onto his finger and stuck it into his mouth. 

Seeing that Mikey was giggling and okay seemed to settle Raph down. 

“There you go,” Splinter cooed. “See? The bugs can't hurt you.”

Leonardo crawled into the dojo and up to his father. He grabbed onto his robe for support and pulled himself to his feet. In the passing weeks, he had become strong enough to stand up on his two feet, but only with the support of something to hold onto. 

His curious blue eyes looked up and scanned his father and little brothers. “'..s'at?”

Splinter chuckled. Leo had also picked up on several more words and phrases, including 'what's that?' and his brothers' names.

“It was nothing, my son. Raphie just got scared by a bug, but Mikey ate it.” 

Leo giggled. “'ikey...”

Splinter grinned. “Mikey's silly, isn't he?”

Leo nodded.

\---------------

Splinter decided he would use food as a motivation to get little Mikey to crawl on his own, so he got out his dish full of live worms and sat across from the little tot lying on his stomach on the living room floor. 

Right away, Mikey recognized the dish and knew that was where the deliciousness came from. He tried to climb into his father's lap, but Splinter carefully set him back on the floor.

“Do you want some worms?” he asked.

Mikey responded by reaching for the dish.

Splinter got up and placed one worm about two feet in front of Mikey, just out of his reach. 

“There you go,” he said. “You have to go get it.”

Mikey stared at the worm for several seconds and then averted his gaze to Splinter, his blue baby blues pleading. 

“You have to go get the worm,” Splinter urged gently.

Mikey tried to climb into Splinter's lap again and this time reached for the whole dish of worms in his hand, but Splinter pulled it away.

“No, no,” he scolded and then set the dish beside the lone worm so that Mikey would have to crawl to that too. Splinter sat behind the dish and worm and held out his arms. “Come on.”

Mikey looked to him and then the worm. Splinter watched as his face morphed into a determined expression. 

“You can do it,” he whispered. “Come on, Michelangelo.”

Mikey shakily lifted his tiny upper half with his chubby arms. 

“There you go. Just a little more.”

He put one hand in front of him and propped up one of his knees. 

“Good boy,” Splinter cooed. “Come on, you're almost up.”

He shakily propped up his other knee and was balanced on his hands and knees. Carefully, he placed his right hand in front of him and then moved his left knee forward, and then repeated vice versa. 

“Come on, you're almost there.”

Within a few paces of shaky crawling, Mikey reached the worm and picked it up and put it in his mouth. 

Splinter scooped him up out of pure glee and hugged him close. “You did it! Oh, I am so proud of you, Michelangelo.”

Mikey grinned with a mouthful of chewed-up worm. 

After several more trials, Mikey had nearly mastered crawling on his own. 

Leo crawled up to his father, having abandoned his play session with Donnie and Raph, and propped himself up against his legs again.

“F-food?” he reached for the dish of worms in Splinter's hands.

“Leonardo, you must see what Michelangelo can do now,” he said and got down on his knees a few feet from Mikey. He held out his hands. “Come on, Mikey,” he cooed.

Mikey grinned and eagerly crawled to his father and into his arms.

“See, Leonardo? Mikey can crawl now!”

Leo clapped his hands. “'ikey go!”

“Yes,” Splinter responded. “Now, are you hungry?”

“Food!” Leo chirped.


	4. Go

Splinter bent down in front of his oldest toddler and grabbed onto his chubby three-fingered hands. The little one flashed him an eager grin as Splinter carefully pulled him up onto his feet. 

Splinter checked over the wobbly toddler to make sure that he was stable. 

“Are you okay?” he quietly asked him while holding onto his midsection. 

“Uh-huh,” Leo replied.

Splinter slowly released his hold on him and then walked several feet in front of him and knelt down. He flashed Leo an encouraging smile and held out his hands.

“Okay, Leonardo,” he said, “come to me.”

Leo concentrated as he subtly moved his foot in front of him, trying not to lose his balance and risk bumping his backside on the hard floor yet again. He was surprised to see that it had made it back to the floor in front of him before he was able to lose his balance. With slightly more confidence, he lifted the other foot and set it back down in front of the other. He was still on his feet.

Leo looked to his father; he was still smiling and waiting.

“Come on, Leonardo...”

Leo managed another step, and then another, and another, and another. Before he knew it he was right in front of Splinter and he triumphantly collapsed into his arms. 

Splinter scooped him up and held him up over his head. “Leonardo, you walked on your own! I'm so proud of you!”

Leo clapped his hands together. “I go! ...Go!”

“Yes you did! Do you want to go again?”

Leo nodded. “Uh-huh...”

“No!” A high-pitch voice protested.

Leo and Splinter turned their heads to see a displeased looking Raphael sitting by Splinter's feet.

“What is wrong, my son?”

“No!” The toddler repeated.

He set Leonardo down and knelt in front of his second son. “Are you wet?” he asked. He scooped him up and checked his diaper; it was bone dry.

“No!” he said again, only this time he pointed at Leo. 

Leo had his rear end sticking up in the air as he was slowly trying to pull himself up on his feet again. It didn't take too long for him to find himself standing up on his feet.

“Very good, Leonardo,” Splinter praised.

Raph pouted. “No...”

“No to Leonardo?” Splinter raised an eyebrow.

Leo took a few more successful steps toward his other two younger brothers. The youngest of which was snoozing on a blanket and the second chewing on the ear of his baby brother's teddy bear. 

Leo made it to the blanket and unsteadily stood next to Donnie. “D'nie...I go!”

That seemed to really set little Raphie off. He began to whine and kick his feet in his father's arms. 

“No-o!” He fussed. 

“What is the matter, Raphael?” Splinter cooed. “Do you want to walk too?”

Raph sniffed and looked at his father with hopeful green eyes. 

Splinter smiled. “Okay, you may try.” 

He set Raph down on the floor, being sure to set him on his feet. He knelt down and firmly held him in place by his midsection.

“You ready?”

“Uh-huh,” Raph said with a nod.

Splinter let him go and followed the same routine he had just done with Leo.

Raph carefully put a foot in front of him and set it back on the ground, and then followed with the next foot. He had successfully made a few steps, but by the time he was halfway to where Splinter waited, he lost his balance and fell on his backside.

He cried out in frustration before bursting into tears.

Splinter went to him and pulled him into his arms. “It is alright, Raphael, you did very well. It will take a few tries. You did a very good job. Come now, let's try it again.” 

Splinter attempted to set Raph back on his feet, but the little one stubbornly bent his knees. 

“No!” He protested.

Splinter cocked his head. “You do not want to try again?”

“No!”

“Are you sure? I know you can do it.” He tried to set him on his feet again, but this time Raph angrily kicked his feet and screamed.

“No-o-o!”

Quiet, unhappy whining could be heard from the other side of the room. Splinter sighed and set the unhappy Raph down and went to console his youngest that had been rudely disturbed from his slumber. 

“There, there, Michelangelo,” he scooped him up and cradled him. “I am sorry Raphael woke you.”   
He hushed him and held him closer in hopes that he may coax him back to sleep. 

Leo tugged Splinter's robe. “'key...'k-kay?”

Splinter smiled. “Yes, Leonardo, Mikey is fine. He's just not happy about being woken up.”

Leo looked at the teddy bear still in Donnie's mouth and knew what he needed to do. He sat next to him and began to tug on the bear.

Donnie whined in protest.

“D'nie! 'key bear!” Leo argued, tightening his grip on the stuffed animal. 

Splinter sighed. “Leonardo, you cannot just take the bear. Donatello was playing with it.”

“D'nie eat! 'key bear!” Leo argued. 

“B-bear!” A crying Donnie whined. 

Splinter gasped. “Donatello, did you say 'bear'?”

Donnie was too into his tug-of-war match with Leonardo to respond. 

“Bear!” he screamed.

Leo had finally had enough and let go of the bear so that he could smack Donnie on the top of his head. 

Donnie cried out in pain and began to cry harder.

Splinter gasped and set Mikey back on the blanket. Without a single word, he grabbed onto Leo's wrist and firmly smacked him on his hand.

Leo cried.

“No, no,” Splinter scolded. “You do not hit your brothers. That is very bad, Leonardo.”

Raph crawled over and sat next to Leo. 

“Bad, bad!” he said, wagging his little finger up and down, pretending to scold him like his father. 

Mikey crawled to the bear that now lie on the floor and picked it up so that he could stick its foot into his mouth. 

Donnie pouted at him. “B-bear...?” He reached for the teddy bear, but Mikey stubbornly pulled it away. Donnie then began to whine and fuss again.

Splinter sighed and scooped up Donnie. “Donatello, I'm afraid that is Mikey's bear. Perhaps we can find something else for you to play with?”

Donnie sniffled as Splinter set him down next to Mikey and handed him a stuffed elephant that he had found lying nearby on the floor. Donnie rejected it and crawled off toward the wall, where he chose to sit and sulk. 

Splinter sighed. “Donatello...”

“Waaah!” Raphael cried out again.

Splinter went to him and scooped him up. “What is wrong, Raphael?”

Raph pouted. “Pee-pee,” he whined.

“Okay, I'll clean you up.” 

Splinter went into the bathroom to retrieve a fresh diaper and lay Raph on his back to change him. Once clean, he returned him to the living room. He was pleased to find that Donatello had somehow found a way to entertain himself; he was playing with a roach on the floor, laughing and taking quite an interest in it as he followed it around.

Mikey, curious to see what his brother was getting into, crawled to the curious spec moving across the floor. His big baby blue eyes stared at it for a moment until he picked it up and stuck it in his mouth.

Donnie stared at him with a mortified expression, which quickly transformed into tears. 

Splinter shook his head and massaged his temples.


	5. One

Splinter sat on the toilet with his oldest son sitting on the floor in front of him watching. Once done, he cleaned himself, stood up, and flushed and then turned to Leonardo with an encouraging smile.

“That does not look to hard, does it? Do you wish to try?”

Leo stood up and eagerly waddled to the toilet. 

Splinter chuckled. “Very well, then.” He lifted him and set him on the toilet, making certain that he was secure so his tiny bottom wouldn't get swallowed by the big bowl. “Hold on to the sides now, so you do not fall in.”

Leo obeyed and Splinter knelt down in front of him.

“Now that you're up there, you may just go whenever you're ready,” he said.

Leo's little face looked concentrated for a moment, and then transformed to one of pride as the sound of dribbling could be heard echoing inside the bowl. 

Splinter smiled from ear to ear. “Well, look at you, Leonardo, using the potty like a big boy.”

“'ike daddy,” Leo chirped. 

“Yes, just like daddy,” Splinter cooed. “Are you all done?”

Leo nodded.

“Okay, now you must clean yourself,” he instructed and handed Leo a wad of toilet paper. “Do a good job.”

“'Kay,” Leo took the paper, wiped himself clean, and dropped it in the toilet. 

“Good boy.” Splinter lifted him off of the bowl and set him back on the floor. “Now for the fun part. You get to flush it.”

Leo wrapped his chubby fingers around the lever and pulled it down with pride. He giggled as he watched the water swish around.

“Bye bye, pee-pee,” he said, waving into the bowl.

Splinter chuckled. “That is much more fun than a diaper, yes? Much cleaner too.”

Leo nodded and held up his hands. “Was' han's?”

“Very good, Leonardo. Yes, now you must wash your hands. Always wash your hands after using the potty.”

Leo waddled to the sink and eagerly jumped up and down with his hands held high. Splinter held him up so he could reach the sink, holding him in one arm while working the faucet with the other. 

Raphael waddled into the room and tugged on Splinter's kimono.

“Dadda, hung'y,” he whined.

“You are hungry?” Splinter cooed, setting Leo back on the floor.

Raph nodded and rubbed his belly. “Food...”

“Very well, it is almost lunch time, but guess what your big brother did?”

Raph blinked.

“He used the potty for the first time,” Splinter said, ruffling the top of Leo's head. “We are so proud of him, aren't we?”

Raph scrunched up his little face. “I do...'at.”

“I know you could do that, and you may give it a try whenever you want.” He pulled a new diaper out of the cabinet. “Come Leonardo, I must put a new diaper on you.”

“No,” Leo whined. “I big boy. No diapie...”

“Yes and I am very proud of you, but for right now, I want you to still wear a diaper to be safe.”

Leo begrudgingly complied.

“Remember Leonardo, even though I still want you to wear a diaper, I would still like you to tell me when you need to go so you can use the potty, understand?”

Leo nodded. 

“Would you like to try, Raphael?”

Raph shook his head. “No, hung'y.”

“Well, how about after lunch?”

Raph nodded. “'kay...”

Splinter took both of his oldest boys into his arms. “Come now,” he said. “I have a surprise for you.”

He took the two into the kitchen and sat them down at the table.

“Donatello, Michelangelo,” he called as he exited the kitchen and entered the living room. “It is lunch time.”

Mikey's little face lit up. He dropped the car he was rolling around and crawled to his father's feet.

Splinter scooped him up. “Come Donatello, it is time to eat.”

Donnie held on to the block in his hands. “No...f-food...” he tried to protest.

Splinter held firm and went to his second youngest son. “No, Donatello, you must come eat lunch. You may play with your blocks when you're finished, now put the block down.”

Donnie groaned, but complied. 

“Good boy,” Splinter praised and scooped him up with his free arm. “I have a surprise for you, anyway.”

He set Donatello in a chair next to Raphael and carried Mikey while he served each of his boys a plate of worms and algae, only today he stuck a candle in each one. He took his own chair and sat Mikey in his lap. 

“My sons,” he said with a grin, “do you know what today is?”

No one answered; they all watched him, waiting for an answer. 

“Today is your...birthday. It has been one whole year since I became your daddy,” he planted a kiss on the top of Mikey's head for emphasis. “Happy birthday, my sons. You are all one-year-old today.” He held up one finger. “This many.”

Mikey grabbed onto the finger and stuck it in his mouth. 

Splinter chuckled. “No Michelangelo, that is not food.”

Mikey glanced at him. “F-food...”

Splinter's eyes widened. “Did you say 'food', Michelangelo? Did you speak?”

“F-food...” Mikey repeated, reaching for his plate in front of him.

“You did!” He hugged him. “I am so proud of you. Very, very good.”

Mikey whined. “Food...”

Splinter chuckled at him and picked up his chopsticks. “I am sorry,” he said and gathered up some food in the chopsticks, “here you go.” Mikey eagerly took a bite.

He looked all around the table, watching his sons eat; all of them clumsily using their chopsticks that he had only recently taught them to use. All of them except Michelangelo, who was still a bit too little to use utensils, and Raphael, who, momentarily, was decided to use his fingers.

“Raphael,” Splinter scolded, “remember what I have taught you. You are not to eat with your fingers. It is dirty. Use the chopsticks, please.”

Raph groaned, but complied.

“Are you boys ready to see your next surprise?”

“Yes!” Leo chirped. 

“Very well,” he said and pulled a small box out from under the table. “I have a present for each of you.” Out of the box, he pulled out four homemade bandanas of the colors red, blue, purple, and orange. “I made these especially for you boys to help keep your heads warm...and because I thought they'd look nice since none of you wear clothing. I carefully chose a color for each of you.” 

Splinter set Michelangelo down on the chair and first picked up the blue bandana. “For my brave little lion, I made a blue bandana.” He carefully put the bandana over Leo's head and tied it in the back, covering his eyes, which looked perfectly through the eye holes. He gingerly kissed the top of his head. “Happy birthday, Leonardo, who just used the potty for the first time today.”

Next, he picked up the red bandana and went to Raphael. “For my little fireball, I made a red bandana.” He fastened the bandana on Raph's head and kissed him as well. “Happy birthday, Raphael.”

Third, he picked up the purple bandana and went to Donatello. “For my little genius, I made a purple bandana.” He fastened it onto Donatello's head a bit tighter since he seemed to have a smaller head than the older two. He pecked him on his head. “Happy birthday, Donatello.”

Last, he picked up the orange bandana and went to Michelangelo, who was licking the bottom of the bowl that he had cleaned out. “And for my little ray of sunshine, I made an orange bandana.” He wrapped it around the smallest's head and then scooped him up and kissed him. “Happy birthday, Michelangelo, who has said his first word today and I'm very proud of.” 

He looked around to each of them with a wide grin. “What handsome little boys I have. I could not be more proud of you all.” He looked to Raph. “Now Raphael, would you like to try and use the potty?”

“Eww,” Leo whined and held his nose.

Splinter went near Raph and got a whiff. He sighed. “I can see you have already gone. Perhaps another day then.”


End file.
